


Teachers Pet

by Codydarkstalker



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, Bottom Ron, Dom Severus Snape, Dom/sub, F/M, Heavy BDSM, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mind/Mood Altering Substances, No Aftercare, Puppy Play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2018-03-08 09:45:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3204680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Codydarkstalker/pseuds/Codydarkstalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Ron finds himself having to decide between doing extra work for his least favorite professor, or failing class, he finds himself becoming fond not just of Potions, but the Potions Master as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Ron did not like waking up early. He especially did not like waking up early on a Saturday. He really, really, really, truly, did not like waking up early on a beautiful Saturday afternoon only to have to drag himself down into the dungeons to deal with Snape. So he did what anyone would, he laid in bed with his eyes closed for about fifteen minutes and willed it all to just, go away. Sadly, it didn't and he eventually crawled out of his bed to get ready for his day of bullshit. 

The curtains in the bed next to him drew back and Harry stuck his head out, squinting without his glasses. “Ron? Issat you?”

“Yeah, sorry to wake you mate. I need to go to Snapes extra work hours.” Ron grimaced. “I didn’t do too well on that last practical exam, so it’s this or fail.”

Harry laughed. “That’s what you get for trying to read Hermiones notes upside down you know.”

Ron threw a balled up sock at him. “Come off it! You know you hate potions as much as I do.”

Harry shrugged and fell back against his pillows. “Yeah, but I hate getting up early on weekends more.”

Ron groaned and started searching around for his jumper. He knew Hermione was smarter than him. He knew Harry was too, but they didn’t usually talk about it. It was hard, always being the dumbest in the group at everything. Harry was as lazy as he was, but with even a tiny amount of effort he did alright in his classes. Ron had to struggle and steal Hermiones notes just to keep from flunking most of the time.

As he got dressed he wondered if passing his potions class was really that important, if it meant getting up at six every saturday until end of term. Sure, his mother would be mad, but she was always sort of mad at him, and he knew enough to throw her howlers right into the fire now. Fred and George had failed a few classes before, he reasoned, he could certainly do the same. Deep down though, he knew he wouldn’t be able to skate by like the twins had, so he pulled on his jumper, pulled a hand through his hair to try and sort of neaten it a bit, and headed down to the potions room.

It was a long, and mostly empty walk at that time of day, so Ron had all the time in the world to wonder what awful task Snape might have him doing. Knowing the Potions Master, something disgusting like scrubbing slime from old cauldrons or deveining pickled slugs. It was always some sort of gross task when he had detention with Snape. He wondered idly if potions was just always nasty, or if the professor just saved such unpleasant tasks for Gryffindors that caught his ire.

So engrossed in these thoughts, he didn’t realize how far into the dungeons he had gotten until he literally ran into Snape. Snape, arms full of graded papers, fell back against the wall, and the stack of parchments flew up into the air and then rained down around him like giant snowflakes. Ron simply gaped in horror, wondering what sort of curse Snape would put on him for being so clumsy.

“Are you planning on helping me anytime soon Weasley? Or just enjoying the view?” Snape growled form beneath his blanket of papers.  
Ron blushed and scrambled to grab the older man by the arm and haul him to his feet. He gave a tug, and found himself falling back, surprised at how light the man was. Snape, not expecting to be lifted off of the floor and off of his feet, crashed forward into the redhead, knocking them both into the wall.   
Ron froze, pinned to the wall by his professor. For one wild moment all he could think of was how surprised he was at how nice Snape smelled, followed by the thought that he was going to be killed. 

Snape pulled back from the boy and scowled. “In a rush Mister Weasley?”

Ron blushed, pink cheeks clashing with his hair. “I was, er, just trying not to be late for you. I mean, for your extra work hours…”

Snape nodded, scowl still seemingly permanently ectched onto his face. “I see. Well now we are both late.” He flicked his wand at the floor and the papers stacked themselves up. “Grab those and follow me to the classroom. Do NOT drop them again.” 

Ron scrambled to grab the stack of papers and follow after the older man without dropping any. He wasn’t surprised Snape was already being awful to him, but he wasn’t happy about it either. He contented himself with sticking out his tongue at the mans retreating back.

“Your face will get stuck like that Weasley. Five points from Gryffindor.”

Ron paused a moment in the hall, staring after the other man, wondering just how he had known what he was doing. “Damned, greasey git has eyes in the back of his head,” he muttered to himself.

“No Weasley, you’re just very, very, predictable. And that will be another five points.”

Ron bit back a curse and silently apologized to his housemates. If things kept up like that, it was going to be a very long day.


	2. Chapter 2

Calendula was good for burns, scratches and rashes. It could be mixed into an ointment and applied topically. Carnation blossoms were good for the skin too, but were best brewed into a tea. They also helped reduce stress and anxiety. Chrysanthemums could be turned into tea as well, they were good for headaches, fevers and cold symptoms. 

Ron noted all of this down on a piece of parchment as he sorted the bottles of dried herbs. Snape had shown him to the dusty store room and simply told him to sort the mess out and left without any other instruction. It seemed like an easy enough task, but it was deceptive. There was a pile of papers in a basket near the door with notes on the contents of the cabinet and their uses, but no hint as to how they should be arranged. Was it better to put them in alphabetical order? Arrange them by use? He had resorted to dragging in a few dusty old books from the classroom and trying to copy the way they were laid out. 

There were supplies for labeling as well, so he peeled the old ones off and carefully wrote the names and uses on each jar. It was boring work. So boring he thought he would cry, but it was the sort of work he could do. Potions was all careful, precise work, done with a delicate hand. Ron had never gotten the hang of delicate and precise. Growing up in the Burrow, he was used to loud and messy. But he was also used to chores, and this was not too far off from the jobs his mother had given him, cleaning out the pantry and restocking the shelves when they brought in fresh things from the garden. He had a big family but his mother kept the kitchen stocked as if she might at any moment be expected to feed all the attendants of the Quidditch World Cup. For years she had tried to cajole Ginny into helping her in the kitchen, but she had preferred chasing after the twins and trying to scare gnomes out of the garden. Ron hadn’t minded though. Working in the kitchen meant he got to taste everything his mother made before anyone else, and it was one of the few times in his life where he got the sole attention of one of his parents. 

“D” was the next on the list. Dandelion greens were good to eat, he already knew that, but the book “Fantasical Flora by Bethany Baggin” informed him they were also useful for combating anemia and other ailments of the blood, and could be used in potions that helped clear poisons from the body.

“I guess weeds are more useful than I thought. Huh,” Ron muttered to himself as he carefully wrote out the information on the clean new label.

“Most plants have some use in potions. You would know about a good deal of these already if you paid more attention in class Weasley” Snape stood in the doorway, blocking the light from the classroom. 

Ron bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying anything that might cost Gryffindor points and gave a strained smile and a nod. He knew he could try harder to focus in class, but really, how was it his fault that Potions was the most boring class ever? Not even Hermione liked it. It was barely magic, all you did was mix gross things into smelly gunk.

Snape surveyed the shelves, turning some of the jars to read the labels. “You’re redoing the labels on these?”

“Uh, yeah. Most of the labels were so old it was almost impossible to read them.” Ron scrambled to his feet and held up the book he had been using. “I just based everything off of this book. You know, just copied the uses and then put them on the shelf in alphabetical order.”

Snape grabbed the book and thumbed through the pages. “You’re using this book?”

Ron nodded. “It was in the classroom, and I wasn’t sure how else to put everything in order.”

Snape nodded and put the book on a shelf. “I’m just surprised. I didn’t know you read anything besides Quidditch scores and Miss Grangers notes.”

Ron blushed and snatched the book and held it to his chest protectively. “Well sorry if I prefer real magic to all this nonsense! Who even does stuff like this the muggle way anyway?” He sputtered, cheeks going an unflattering shade of red.

Snapes eyes went wide. “Well I’m sorry that you are too small minded to understand there is more to magic than wand waving and flying cars! Maybe if you or any ONE of your siblings could grasp that-” He was cut off by Ron, who had thrown down the book and grabbed him by the front of his robes. His shoulder hit one of the shelves and a few of the jars fell over, spilling their contents.

“Don’t you dare insult my family,” Ron growled, pulling the taller man down to eye level. “Don’t you bloody dare say another word.”

Snape reached up and grabbed the younger mans wrist and attempted to remove him from his person. “Mister Weasley, might I suggest letting go of me immediately if you wish to keep all of your fingers.” He pushed Ron back, causing the teen to stumble and fall against the wall. He leaned in close and stared Ron straight in the eyes. “That was an incredibly stupid thing to do.”

“Why, because you’re some death eater arsehole and might use the killing curse on me?” Ron shot back, looking away.

Snapes eyes went wide, and then he smiled. “Maybe. Maybe I could torture you, or kill you, or even force you to do anything I want,” He replied silkily. “Or maybe it’s because I’m your professor and could have you expelled.”

Ron nodded dumbly. “Yes sir. Sorry.”  
Snape straightened his robes and opened the door. He paused and looked at the spilled jars on the shelves. “Clean this up and then come see me in my office.”

“Yes sir.” 

Ron managed to wait until Snape had left him alone before punching the door.


	3. Chapter 3

There was a dark wooden desk pushed against one wall and the remaining space seemed to be a mix of personal store cupboard and miniature lab. A number of small cauldrons made out of different metals lined one wall. 

The normal Potions classes only used the standard pewter cauldrons. Ron’s parents had a much larger version at home, a hand me down from some ancient relative, which was mostly used by Molly for home remedies for lice, poison ivy and diaper rash. But these were lined in gold, silver, and in one case what looked like a perfectly smooth layer of mother of pearl. Up on the highest shelf was a very small cauldron unlike any he had ever seen. It was tiny, looking only to be able to hold a few cupfuls of liquid, and made entirely of glass. 

Ron’s attention was yanked away from the intriguing object by the door opening and Snape sweeping into the room.

“I had thought the task would take you longer, Weasley,” He sneered, sparing a glance at the clock on the wall. “I do hope you haven’t rushed and made mistakes. If I find you’ve made a mess of my stores I’ll be forced to find a less pleasant task for your next little visit.”

Ron bit back a growl and took a deep breath, forcing his words to come slowly and evenly. “No, sir,” he gritted out. “I was careful, everything should be arranged properly.”

Snape nodded slowly and looked Ron up and down. His eyes caught on Ron’s slightly too short robes and the hair that was long enough now to fall over the edge of his collar. 

Ron resisted the urge to shift under the weight of his stare. He knew what he looked like, all awkward angles and ill fitting uniform. Fred and George hadn’t been as tall when they were in his year, and even after Molly charmed everything to let out the seam allowances, he knew most of it was still too short. And getting worse, judging by the way he seemed to keep growing. He had gotten over most of his jealousy about Harry. He no longer begrudged him the fame, the glory, the power, he knew the price of it all was a dead family and a constant fear for his own life. But it was hard not to stare longingly when Harry showed up each year with fresh robes from Madame Malkin. Harry was still the shortest in the dorm but that didn’t seem to deter him from buying a fresh set of uniforms each year as if it were nothing. 

Finally Snape looked away, turning on his heel to rifle through some pieces of paper on his desk. “Will you be continuing with these extra lessons Weasley?” he asked, head still down.

Ron considered rolling his eyes and then thought better of it. Somehow he knew Snape would know. “Yes, sir. I still need a better grade for Potions if I want to begin Auror training after I graduate.”

Snape snorted derisively. “An auror hmm? I’m surprised being Potter’s sidekick doesn’t already immediately qualify you.” He appeared to find the piece of paper he was looking for and straightened. “Here Weasley, this is going to be your next assignment.” He handed a piece of parchment over.

Ron took the paper and stared at it. It was a botanical illustration, possibly done by Snape himself. It was a detailed ink and water color drawing of a cluster of mushrooms, growing up out of what looked like an animal ribcage. They were small and dark grey, and appeared to be dripping some sort of bright blue fluid. The bottom of the page included a number of pictures of root system and cross sections of the mushroom, along with notes on it’s uses and best preparation and storage methods. 

“I will assume by the blank look on your face that you are unfamiliar with this variety of mushroom.” Snape paused and waited for Ron to nod. “This is a Lactarius Azurs. Otherwise known as a Blue Bloodcap. They are a rare form of magical mushroom which feed off the magical energy of dead magical creatures. They have a wide range of uses in potions, but their potency is directly affected by the type of creature’s corpse they feed on.”

“Okay, and you want me to do something with these?” Ron asked, looking at the parchment more closely. The storage method recommended drying or jarring the mushrooms, which was pretty standard. Normally the kind of work lower level classes would do.

Snape sighed dramatically. “No, Mr. Weasley. You are going to be assisting me in the collection of these mushrooms. I have it on good word from Hagrid that there is a good crop ready in the forbidden forest. They are best harvested at night.”

Ron’s eyes went wide. “You want me to go into the forbidden forest...at night??” he choked out. He could vividly remember the last time he was in the forest. The spiders still haunted his nightmares sometimes.

Snape reached out and snatched the parchment from his hands. “I will be with you the entire time, you will be perfectly safe. Now I expect you to meet me at the main entrance tomorrow night at eight, and I expect you to be on time.” He paused for a moment, considering something. “One of those ghastly sweaters might not be amiss, it will be cold.”

Ron opened his mouth to say, something, something about how this idea was crazy and Snape had clearly gone round the bend if he thought Ron was going to spend his whole night freezing his arse off in the forest and being stalked by giant spiders. But somehow all that came out was…

“Yes sir.”


	4. Chapter 4

Ron almost decided to stop the extra lessons, he didn’t feel like he was learning much, and he was hemorrhaging house points every time he was around Snape. But his next letter from home came and it became very clear that if he didn’t get his grades up he was going to be spending his next Summer break in the middle of Wales with his Auntie Agatha and her house full of elderly poodles with nothing to do but read his school books. So he chose the lesser of the two evils and signed up for more extra lessons. The next lesson was, mercifully, not held in the dungeons. Ron’s excitement over that was, sadly, overcome by his dismay to find his lesson would be held in the middle of the night, and outside. 

Ron groaned and flopped over the table, knocking over a cup of orange juice in the process. “How is this allowed? It’s inhumane! I need to sleep, I’m a growing boy!” he wailed.

Harry and Hermione exchanged a long look over his back. 

“You know, you don’t have to go Ron,” Harry ventured. “You could just take your potions grade as is and not take the upper level class.”

Ron snorted. “Yeah mate, and then I won’t be in auror training with you. That’s no good.”

Hermione took a sip of her tea and looked at the book in front of her. The Official O.W.L & N.E.W.T. Study Guide. The book was massive, and the pages were so covered in color coded sticky notes and so many corners had been folded to mark an important section that she had had to resort to tying a bit of string around it to keep all the contents from falling out. She had spent every spare moment glued to the thing, reading out choice tips to whoever seemed like they might listen. 

“You know you need extremely high scores on both your O.W.Ls and N.E.W.Ts to even sit for the auror exam, right Ron?” She asked. “You need a high score in Defense, Charms, Transfiguration, and Potions. And they usually prefer candidates with more extra classes.”

Ron sat upright and glared at her. “Oh, so you’re saying I’m just wasting my time then? That I’m not as smart as you too and won’t even be allowed to take the damned test let alone pass it?” He stood up and snatched a bacon roll of a platter. “Well thanks for all the support. I’m just gonna go bugger off and be dumb somewhere else.” He rushed off before they could protest, nearly bowling over a number of first years as he left the Great Hall. 

As soon as he got into the main corridor he realized his mistake. He had nothing to do, nowhere to go. It was a saturday, there were no classes, and the Quidditch pitch was being used for a Ravenclaw vs Hufflepuff game. He had planned on eating breakfast and then sweet talking Hermione into helping him revise his Defense essay on ancient curses. He had been pretty proud of the essay. The broad strokes were things he already knew, and he had gotten some good examples from a book Bill had sent him. 

He hesitated in the hall for a moment, loitering behind a group of third years excitedly discussing Hogsmeade plans. When he saw Harry and Hermione exiting the hall he ducked down and made a quick escape out of the main doors of the castle. Outside it was sunny but the air was cool, and there was a slight wind blowing and making ripples on the surface of the lake. There were a few younger students milling about on the grass. A group of first years practicing on school brooms, and what looked to be a group of fourth and fifth years throwing food scraps into the lake in some misguided attempt to lure out the giant squid.

There were noises coming from the Quidditch pitch, but Ron found himself walking in the opposite direction, towards the greenhouses. Herbology had always been a subject Ron did decently well at. Plants weren’t bad, and he liked working out in the garden at The Burrow. It was nice being outside in the sunlight, working in the dirt, chasing gnomes with his brothers. The greenhouses at Hogwarts were nothing like the overgrown jungle of a yard he had grown up playing in. Professor Sprout had a knack for creating order out of chaos. Each greenhouse housed different plants, all kept at different temperatures and the air at varying levels of humidity with a variety of charms. 

One of the greenhouse doors was open, and there was a wheelbarrow filled with sacks of soil sitting outside along with a number of large clay pots. Ron approached the door and peeked inside to see Neville inside, doing a poor job of wrestling a massive water hose. The boy seemed like he was moments away from being strangled by the thing.

“Hey mate, need a hand?” Ron ducked under a line of hanging planters and grabbed one end of the hose, giving it a sharp tug.

“Oh! Ron!” Neville blushed, ears going bright red. “Yeah, thanks. I dunno how this always happens. I’m so good with the plants and so bad with the hose lines.”

“Just try and stay put while I untie you okay? You’re tangled right good in here.” Ron looped the hose around his arm as he paced around Neville, pulling here and there to work out the kinks in the hose. 

Neville lifted a leg so Ron could get at the loop of hose around his ankle. “Yeah, last time I feel over and was stuck for the better part of an hour until Sprout cma ein and found me.”

Ron bit back a snort and gave a final pull, coiling the last bit of hose up in his arms. “Hah! Freedom!” He held the bundle of hose out for Neville to stow away. 

“Thanks, that was a big he--!” His words dissolved into an undignified yelp. 

A rogue tendril of a vine snaked out of a pot and had looped itself into Neville’s shoelaces. When he went to turn the whole mess had turned into a giant knot and sent him toppling to the ground. The weight of his body pulling on the hose yanked the base straight out of the spigot on the wall, and a spray of water immediately began to shoot out. 

Ron made a desperate lunge for Neville’s arm, keeper’s reflexes kicking into overdrive. His fingers closed tight around Neville’s sleeve, tearing the fabric as the boy fell, and dragging Ron down mostly on top of him. The water gushed out of the wall, the pressure slowly lessening as they were left in a lake of mud on the greenhouse floor. They lay there in the mud for a moment, surveying the mess they had made, and then burst into laughter.

“Oh wow, we...we made a mess.” Ron struggled to his feet and pulled Neville up off the ground, throwing an arm around the other boy’s shoulders. Neville giggled and wiped futilely at 

He looked down at his mud soaked jumper and grimaced, pulling the mess over his head and letting it fall to the ground with a wet splat. After a moment he yanked his tie loose and pulled off his collared shirt, letting the wet mess of fabric and mud fall back to the ground. He stood there in his undershirt and surveyed the mess. The creeping vine, whatever it was, had retreated back into it’s pot to hide from the flood. But aside from the mud there didn’t seem to be any real damage.

“Indeed you did! And I thought Neville and that hose were trouble on their own!” Professor Sprout was standing in the doorway, her rubber boots sinking into the soft mud. Directly behind her was Professor Snape. 

“Oh! I am so so so sorry Professor Sprout! I didn’t- we didn’t- the hose just…” Neville flailed his hands in the direction of the potted vines. “The Devil’s Snare seedlings are doing well,” he offered helplessly.

Ron watched Snape bite back a laugh as Sprout comforted Neville and moved to fix the pipe and spelled the ground dry again. She flicked her wand and the hose coiled up on a shelf like an obedient snake. She was remarkably calm about the whole thing and he couldn’t help but wonder how many times before Neville had made a mess for her to clean up. 

Ron felt a pair of eyes on him and turned his attention to Snape. “Uh, hullo Professor.”  
Snape looked him up and down, taking in the mud splattered all over his clothes, the dirt on his face, and the too small white tee he wore under his uniform shirt. “Weasley,” he replied with a nod. “I see you’ve found your way into yet another mess. You seem to have a knack for it.”

Ron considered saying something cutting, but the situation was too funny, he found he didn’t have it in him. “I guess I do professor, I guess I do. That’s what I get for helping huh?”

Snape opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by Professor Sprout.

“Okay, well I am glad to see you boys haven’t been slain by the dreaded watering hose. The mess is cleaned up, and it looks like you’re done for the day Neville, thank you for the help. Why don’t you and Mr. Weasley go on up tot eh castle and clean yourselves up while I help Professor snape get his herbs, hmm?” She gently shooed them out of the greenhouse.

Ron nodded and grabbed Neville by the arm, steering him past Snape with a wide grin. He waved his wand and summoned his dirty clothes, gathering them to his chest. He noted Snape watching them as they headed up the lawn towards the castle.

“Wow, we really are a mess,” Neville commented. “Thanks again for trying to save me from the hose, the thing is a menace. I’m sorry it turned into such a, well a mess. If there’s anything I can do to help…”

“Actually,” Ron said slowly, an idea forming. “Do you know much about magic mushrooms?”


	5. Chapter 5

Snape was already waiting by the main doors when Ron showed up for his supplementary work. He had foregone his normal floor length cloak and robes for a black wool coat and well polished boots. 

“Good to see you showed up Mr. Weasley,” Snape said, looking down his nose at the boy.

Ron nodded and wrapped his scarf around his neck a bit tighter. He had followed Snape's suggestion and worn one of the sweaters his Mum had sent him for Christmas This one was dark red with the “R” stitched in a creamy white. It was a step up from the rather ugly shade of maroon he normally got. He had paired the sweater with a pair of black muggle jeans and dragon hide books that Charlie had given him as a hand me down. 

“Yes sir, I’m here. And I brought this.” He dug into his pocket and held up a small glass container with a metal lid.

Snape reached out and took the container from his, carefully unscrewing the lid and peering at the inside. After a moment he dipped a finger into the contents and held his finger up to his nose, sniffing deeply. 

“Beeswax?” He inquired, rubbing his fingers together.

“Beeswax mixed with aloe and lavender oil. It helps create a protective barrier between your hands and the mushroom sap.” Ron grinner and grabbed the container, scooping out an amouth and rubbing it between his hands. As the wax warmed it became easier to spread, and he coated his hands and wrists, front and back with the mixture. Then he scooped out another large dollop and rubbed it between his fingers to warm it slightly. “Here.” He reached out and grabbed Snape’s hands, sandwiching them between his own. 

Snape froze, and silently watched as Ron massaged his hands with the wax mixture. Ron’s hands were about as large as his own, with long fingers and heavy callouses on the palms from years of gardening work and quidditch practice. His normally cold hands warmed as Ron worked, pushing back his sleeve to coat the inside of his wrist. As his sleeve raised the edge of his mark began to show, and that broke him from whatever trance he had been in.

“That’s quite enough Weasley,” he snapped, pulling his hands back and pulling his sleeves down low over the backs of his hands. “How did you even come across the idea to bring such a thing?” The wax was a good idea, a shockingly good one for Weasley to have. It was the sort of thing he would from Granger maybe, but not Weasley.

Ron blushed as he quickly capped the container and shoved it back into his pocket. “It was Neville actually. We went up to the prefect’s bath after the uh… incident… in the greenhouse, and we got to talking. I mentioned we were going to be working on collecting mushrooms, and well you know Neville, big fan of plants and stuff. So he asked some more questions and then told me he had just the thing to help.” Ron shut his mouth as he realized he was babbling. 

“I see, so it was Longbottom.” Snape narrowed his eyes and remembered the scene form said earlier “incident”. It hadn’t been too much of a surprise to find Longbottom in the greenhouse, even on a day off. It had been a bit shocking to find him in the middle of what looked like a mud wrestling match with a partly undressed Weasley. 

He tried not to think too much about how Weasley had looked standing there in his too tight shirt, sweaty and smiling and filthy. Seeing the boy out of uniform it had suddenly become clear to Severus just how much he had grown in the last few years. Ron was tall, like most of the Weasley boys, and had the trademark hair and freckles. But long gone was his youthful gawkiness, he had grown into himself, put on muscles from Quidditch practice that while hidden by his robes, was more than clear in his soaking wet undershirt. 

Ron felt Snape’s stare and bristled slightly. “Yes, it was Neville. He might not be great at Potions but this is something he’s good with. The wax is good right? I did something good?” There was a slight edge of desperation to his voice. He had been pleased when Neville offered him the wax balm. It was just the sort of thing he needed to show Snape that he wasn’t a useless idiot.

Snape let out a slow breath and nodded. “Yes,” he admitted. “The balm should be helpful in our work. I normally wear gloves while collecting these mushrooms, but the sap usually damages the leather, and the gloves make it hard to collect the mushrooms without breaking the caps or stems.”

“Well then, I’ll give Neville our thanks for the help tomorrow.” Ron grinned as he watched Snape blanch at the idea of thanking Neville Longbottom for anything.

“Let’s go Weasley. I would like to be done collecting the ingredients before the sun starts to rise.” Snape spun around, the effect somewhat lessened by the lack of his normal cloak, and headed off towards the woodline.

Ron rolled his eyes and hurried after him, falling into step just behind the Potion’s Master. 

The moon was low in the sky, heavy and orange like a pumpkin ready to be picked. The light couldn’t break through the heavy canopy of leaves and after a few steps into the underbrush they were forced to pull out their wands for light. In the pale glow of the wand light the forest looked alien, and Ron became hyper aware of every little noise he heard around them. 

Snape wordlessly lead them deeper and deeper into the woods, seemingly headed for a specific location. Once or twice something moved in the woods around them, and at one point Ron was convinced they were being followed by something. He tried to focus on the deceptively difficult task of just keeping up with Snape. It seemed the forest was actively trying to attack him. Branches snagged at his clothes and hair, his boots caught on knots of roots and tangles of vines. More than once he got himself caught in some thorny monstrosity of a shrub and had to almost run to catch up with Snape, who seemed fine with the idea of leaving him alone to die in the woods.

After walking for the better part of an hour in silence, Snape suddenly stopped and held up a hand, motioning for him not to move. Ron crept up behind him and tried to peer over his shoulder into the darkness. The light from Snape’s wand only reached a few feet ahead, and past that was a world of shadows. 

“What is it?” Ron whispered, leaning in close in case whatever beastie was lurking had sharp hearing.

Snape hushed him and raised his wand a bit higher, staring straight ahead, his whole body tense. After a moment he let out a long breath and seemed to relax, lowering his wand hand. He grabbed Ron by the sleeve and pulled him in close.

“In the future Weasley, please try and avoid making such a racket. You have no idea what kinds of things lurk in this forest,” he whispered harshly.

Ron pulled back with a jerk. “Yeah well next time let me know what’s happening! I didn’t notice anything!” 

Snape rolled his eyes and started off again. “Of course you didn’t Weasley, of course you didn’t.”

Ron opened his mouth to ask again and then gave up. It was pointless trying to deal with Snape sometimes. Instead he focused on keeping up Snape and trying to keep his noise to a minimum. Snape had somehow mastered the art of picking just the right place to put his feet, so he made barely any sound as he wove in between the trees.

It only took them a few minutes to reach the spot Snape had been heading towards. It was a small lake. There was a break in the trees, and the moon was reflected on the surface of the water like a mirror. On the far side of the lake something glowed a soft blue in the tall grass. 

Snape extinguished the light at the end of his wand with a whispered “Nox”. Ron did the same and followed after him, trying to keep close to avoid tripping in the darkness. As they approached the glowing lights Ron was able to make out what the mushrooms had taken root on. A unicorn. A young one by the look of it, small and thin. It was a soft grey color, and it’s horn was chipped at the top. It looked like it had been dead for a while, the skin had been neatly stripped off it’s legs and there were a large number of mushrooms growing out of it’s abdominal cavity. 

“A unicorn?” Ron whispered, crouching down to get a better look. He had never seen a live one, but dead ones were almost as rare. Unicorns lived a long time unless something killed them, and wizards knew better.

Snape nodded and hummed softly. “The forest has one of the larger unicorn herds in Scotland. Some years there are more males than others, and they fight. This one was small, and a bit weak, a late birth probably. See, there’s still velvet on his horn.” He pointed at the horn, careful not to touch it.

Ron grimaced. “Are you going to take any...other ingredients from it?” he asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

Snape shook his head. “No. The centaurs in the forest look after the unicorns. Taking the remains would upset them, it’s seen as dishonorable. I will take the mushrooms, which the centaurs care nothing for, and nothing else.” He fished in his pockets and pulled out a number of cotton bags with drawstrings. He took a few of them and pressed them into Ron’s hands. “Here, carefully pull the mushrooms from the remains and place them gently into the bags. And I mean gently. The sap in the mushrooms is what makes them valuable. Bruises them or breaking them will make the sap leak, wasting a very valuable ingredient. Do not stuff the bags full. Three to a bag, no more, and then shrink them and perform a stasis and cushioning charm.”

Ron nodded and looked at the mushrooms. They didn’t look like much aside from the blue sap dripping from the gills. He grimaced as he reached into the stomach cavern and gripped a mushroom by the base of the stem, pulling carefully. The unicorn didn’t smell, the insides were long dried out, but there was something unsettling about the whole thing. 

They worked together in silence for half an hour. They filled almost a dozen of the bags with mushrooms and were just finishing storing them away when they heard the noise. At first, it sounded like an ordinary rustling in the leaves. It was easy to pretend that it was just a squirrel or maybe an ow chasing down a mouse. Then, the noise got louder, and closer. It wasn’t just a rustle, it was a soft sort of clicking noise. 

And then it was several clicking noises. And they were loud. And close.

Ron reacted first. He jumped to his feet and grabbed Snape by the arm, yanking hard. Snape faltered for a second, crushing one of the last mushrooms in his hand as Ron pulled at his arm. The sap inside the mushroom gushed out all over his hand, droplets of it spraying onto both men. 

Snape stared down at the mess in shock for a moment. “ Weasley, what in the hell is--”

Ron cut him off. “There’s not time, come one! They’re Acromantulas! Giant bloody spiders! So we have to go, now!” He pulled out his wand and held it out. “Lumos Maximus!” The light at the end of his wand flared like a tiny sun for a moment. In the bright light their situation suddenly became clear.

There were half a dozen Acromantulas. They were in the trees and on the ground, creeping around the outskirts of the lake. They were the size of large dogs, and they were getting close.

Snape cursed under his breath and pulled out his own wand. “Stupefy! Ascendere!” He stunned the closest spider and sent it flying up into the tree line. 

Ron kept his wand up and his grip on Snape tight as he pulled them through the forest. He paid no ind to being quiet anymore. He crashed through the underbrush, stumbling here and there. There was no path to follow but he knew which way to go, and that was away from the spiders. 

He pumped his legs as fast as he could, and then it happened. Ron ran into a tangle of spider silk, the threads as thick as his wrist. He fell forward, wand falling out of his hand. As soon as he hit the ground he heard it, the clicking, above him. He clawed at his boots trying to free himself with one hand and groped haplessly in the dark with his other. And then the spider fell on him, it’s heavy hairy body landing right on his face. He panicked before he realised it wasn’t moving. 

Snape pulled the spider off of him and held out Ron’s wand. “Come on Weasley. I do not plan on being eaten by a spider tonight.” 

Ron let out a tiny, hysterical laugh and climbed to his feet. 

They ran through the forest, Snape shouting out every curse and hex he could think of to keep the spiders back until they could see the light at the edge of the forest. They stumbled out of the woods and onto the lawn and collapsed on the damp grass, breathing hard.

“Damned...bloody...giant...spiders…” Ron panted, rolling onto his back and staring up at the sky.

Severus sat up on the grass next to him. “What in the hell are Acromantulas doing on Hogwarts grounds?”

Ron bit back a giggle. “They’ve been here for ages you know. Nearly ate me in second year actually. Me and Harry. We got saved by a feral Ford Anglia.”

Snape looked at him sharply. “You mean that flying monstrosity you crashed into the Whomping Willow?”

“That’s the one.” Ron nodded.

Snape looked contemplative and then just nodded, as if there was nothing else about it that needed explaining. “Well, we seem to have outrun them. And we have the mushrooms so…” He trailed off, and his eyes went wide. He looked down at himself. He was covered in mushroom sap, a thick layer of the blue goop was crusting on his hands but it was on his face and arms as well. He turned to look at Ron and saw he had been coated as well. “Damn.”


	6. Chapter 6

Ron saw Snape’s face go pale, well paler than normal, and looked down at himself, expecting to see a spider clinging to his jumper. Instead he found himself spider free, but covered in blue sap. 

“Ugh, bit of a mess this, huh?” He prodded a glob of the blue fluid to find it was tacky, and clung to his skin. “Could probably do with a wash.”  
Snape let out a weary sigh. “Weasley, when you were talking to Mr. Longbottom, did he happen to tell you what Lactarius Azurs are used for?”

Ron paused to think about it. “No. I mean, maybe? He was very excited when I mentioned what we were looking for, he said they were really rare and useful, and then he started talking about how interesting fungi are. I might have stopped listening as closely at that point.” He smiled sheepishly. “Why?”

“I assume, Mr. Weasley, that you can see both of us are covered in the sap of the Blue Bloodcap, yes?” Snape gestured between them, indicating the copious amount of blue staining both of their faces and clothes.

“Yes,” Ron replied automatically. It was rather obvious. 

“I will also assume,” Snape continued, as if Ron hadn’t spoken. “That you remember we took precautions to coat our hands in wax balm, to protect them. Yes?”

“Yes…” Ron answered, his confusion growing. 

“Well we did that to prevent getting the sap on our skin. The same sap which is now coating us. The same sap which is a vital ingredient in the brewing of veritaserum.”He took a long, steadying breath. 

Ron’s eyes went went. “Wait, veritaserum? You mean we’re covered in truth potion?” He looked down at his sap soaked sweater and started pulling it off, frantic to get away from the blue ooze.

Snape rolled his eyes and grabbed Ron by the arm, stopping him from stripping right there on the lawn. “No, Weasley, not truth serum. If you paid more attention in class you would know the sap, when not brewed into a potion, has some similar effects as truth serum. It causes the person who it has come into contact with to talk, almost uncontrollably, it causes the person to have a harder time lying when they speak, and the effects of the sap can become permanent if not treated properly.”

“Permanent?” Ron thought for a moment of all the idiotic things he might say under the effects of a truth telling potion. How jealous he was of Harry. How annoyed he was that Hermione still hadn’t told him she was over their break up and that she wanted to ask Harry out. How nice Snape’s arse looked when not covered by robes. He blushed and bit his lip, careful to not say anything.

Snape nodded and began dragging Ron across the lawn by his sleeve. “Yes. Which is why we need to hurry.”

“Can Madame Pomfrey fix us?” Ron asked, struggling to keep up with Snape’s pace. His legs felt like they were made of jelly. “I like her. Ya know, she let Harry and ‘Mione sneak me in candy when I was in the hospital wing third year.”

Snape snorted. “I bet she did. Poppy is soft on students she likes. But no, we are not going to the Hospital Wing right now. I have everything we need to deal with the ap in my quarters. If we went to Poppy we would just have to wait for her to send down a house elf for the items form my rooms.” 

The main door to the castle was closed, but Snape simply pulled out his wand, waved it in front of the handle and stated his name, and the door swung open. The hall inside was deserted. It was already after curfew, so they had an easy time making their way down to the dungeons and to Snape’s door. Snape lowered the wards with a few taps of his wand and some muttered spells. He took a quick look up and down the hall before pulling Ron inside.

Snape’s quarters weren't what Ron had been expecting. Not that he had ever thought about Snape’s rooms much, but upon entering he found himself mildly surprised. The main room was a sitting room, with a low, black velvet couch with pleasantly squashy looking cushions, and a number of large, very full bookshelves. They seemed to be a mix of large leather bound magical texts and books on potions, and mass printed muggle books with modern binding. One or two of the muggle books were familiar to Ron, things he had seen in his father’s office. The fireplace was large and well used, and there was a worn green rug on the floor. The coffee table was low and made of painted black wood, and the surface was covered in books and bits of parchment and broken quills. Ron had been expecting a few more bats, or maybe a pickled snake in a jar, not what looked suspiciously like a hand knit blanket made of fluffy green and black yarn.

Snape noticed Ron’s look. “It was a gift from Albus, a staff holiday exchange.” He grimaced and bit at his lip, angry at having shared. Clearly the bloodcap sap was beginning to take effect. 

“I always thought he seemed more like a crocheting sort sir.” Ron grinned lopsidedly, cheeks flushed pink.

Snape resisted the urge to say anything more and instead focused on ushering the wobbly legged teen into the bathroom. 

The bathroom was clean, with white tiles and fixtures old enough to be considered antique. Severus looked at the sink and sighed. It wasn’t large enough for them to really get clean. He took a deep breath, already noticing the warmth spreading through his body which was a sure sign of the sap at work. He reached over the tub and turned the taps, starting to fill the tub with warm water.

“Alright Weasley. I need you to undress.” He fought to keep his voice steady. Ron was leaning against the wall, his hair was a mss and his face was flushed, and suddenly all Severus could think of was what the boy had looked like the day before, wet and smiling and practically shirtless. At least now he had an excuse to get the boy undressed somewhere more private than a greenhouse. He blushed as he realized where his train of thought was going and scrubbed a hand over his face. He should have been holding up better than this. He was trained in occlumency, normal veritaserum barely affected him. Damned mushrooms, damned giant spiders, thrice damned Weasleys.

“Oh? You want me to take this off?” Ron giggled and began tugging the stained jumper over his head, dropping it in a pile on the floor. “Well all you have to do is ask. Professor.” he purred the last word, waggling his eyebrows in a way clearly meant to be suggestive. He balanced on one foot and pulled at his boot laces, managing to pull one off before falling over in a heap.

“Oh for Merlin’s sake Weasley,” Severus muttered, crouch down to sit the boy upright. “I guess I have to help you. Can’t do anything on your own, hmm Weasley?” he busied himself with the laces on the second boot.

Ron pouted and fixed his gaze on the top of Snape’s head. “Yeah yeah, I know. I’m the Worst Weasley. No need to rub it in.” He kept his body limp as Snape maneuvered his body, pulling his legs up to slip off his socks. “I’m not clever like Fred and George, I’m not smart like Percy, I’m not brave like Bill or Charlie.” He let out a weak little laugh and let his head fall back so he was staring at the ceiling. “Even Ginny is better at Quidditch than I am. I’m the useless one.”

“Well I much prefer undressing you to any of your overly numerous siblings,” Snape muttered, untucking Ron’s under shirt so he could slide it over his head. “Not that I imagine you’re pleased to hear that.”

Ron shrugged and looked down as Snape busied himself with the button fly on his muggle jeans. “It could be worse I guess.” he reached out a hand and settled it on Snape’s head, digging his fingers into the black locks. They were a bit coarse, a bit tangled form their adventure in the woods, but not really greasy. It was nice, playing with Snape’s hair. It felt good under his hands, and the potions master made a pleasant little choked sound when he scraped his nails over his scalp. 

Severus sucked in a breath and batted Ron’s hand away, standing up and pulling the boy to his feet. The tub was mostly full of warm, steamy water. He grabbed a few jars off of a shelf and sprinkled a bit of the contents of each into the water, which turned a delicate shade of sea green and frothed as he stirred them in with his hand.

Ron stood there, shivering in nothing but his boxers for a moment. He let Snape settle him into the bath, letting out a long sigh of pleasure at the feeling of the warm water engulfing his body. The tub was a large one, wide and deep, with old fashioned silver knobs on the tap. Whatever Snape had added to the water smelled like lemon and mint, and it fizzed gently. 

“Hmm this is nice.” Ron let his head loll back into the foam. “You going join me Professor?”

Snape ignored the question and busied himself with his own clothes. First the jacket, under which he wore a high collared black shirt with long sleeves and button cuffs. Then the boots. He hesitated for a moment at his socks, then pulled them off as well. His feet looked pale against the black of his trousers, and Ron couldn't help but think he looked rather young in that moment. Severus undid the buttons at his collar and then paused, suddenly unsure. 

Ron, watching intently from his home in the tub, assured him. “Just take it off. I know what the mark looks like.” He sat forward in the tub, sloshing water over the edge. “Just hurry up and get in already.” He reached out a damp hand and tugged Severus’ shirt loose from his pants. 

Severus bristled. “Weasley, kindly stop trying to undress me.” He undid the rest of the buttons and pulled the shirt off in a smooth motion, tossing it to the floor. “Otherwise I might misunderstand your intentions and think you just want to see me naked,” he added, shooting Ron a meaningful look. 

Ron smiled widely. “Well, earlier I did notice your arse looked nicer than I would have guessed from how you hide it in those robes.” He gave the older man what was clearly meant to be a smouldering look.

Snape’s eye went wide. He had misheard, it was as simple as that. Or Weasley had misspoke. Except he hadn’t misheard, he had heard the younger man quite clearly. And Weasley was still under the effects of the bloodcap sap. So on some level, he meant whatever he was saying. And wasn’t that interesting, that Weasley had been looking at him, even before his mind was muddled with mushrooms. It required some further attention. 

Severus undid the fly of his trousers and hooked his fingers into the belt loops, sliding them down his legs. He stood there for a moment in just his tight black trunks and watched as Weasley looked him up and down like a piece of Honeydukes chocolate. He knew what he looked like naked, too thin, too pale, too covered in scars. But Weasley didn’t seem to be thinking that, Weasley was leaning so far forward he was in danger of sliding out of the tub. It was exhilarating, the weight of Ron’s gaze, the thrum of the magic on his skin, making his head fuzzy.

It was easy for Snape to justify climbing into the tub, the water warm and inviting. He needed to clean the sap off his skin, he needed to clean Ron. He was doing an important thing, not just indulging in some prurient interest. The tub was large enough to hold both men, but not without a good deal of contact. Snape hissed as his legs slid along Ron’s the skin feeling even warmer than the bath water. He forced himself to focus, used every bit of control he had to reach out and grab a bottle of soap instead of just grabbing Weasley by the neck and pulling him in close. 

He poured a liberal amount of soap into his hands and worked it into a lather before reaching out and delicately rubbing it into Ron’s skin. The boy froze, for just a fraction of a moment, and then leaned in to the touch. He tilted his head back and let Snape wash the dirt and sap form his face, and he shivered as Severus’ long soap coated fingers wrapped around his neck, wiping away the blueish stains. Snape had to fight to keep his hands steady and sure as he moved farther down, rubbing at prominent, freckle specked collarbones and a firm Quidditch toned chest. Ron bit back a breathy little moan when the professor’s hands ghosted over his nipples. Snape continued in that manner, washing every exposed part of Ron’s upper body. When he was done he poured out another handful of soap and began to rub it into his own arms.

“Wait, let me…” Ron grabbed the soap and clumsily poured an over large glob into his hands. He slid forward in the tub and reached out towards Snape. His hands hovered over the pale skin for a second before he found his resolve and began vigorously rubbing the soap into him

Snape leaned back into the feeling, touched starved and suddenly overcome with need. It had been a long time since anyone touched him like that, longer than he cared to think about. He couldn’t remember any other touch feeling so good, so wrong, so completely right. He stopped resisting then, the last bit of his control rubbing off along with the dried sap and dirt.

He turned suddenly in the tub, heedless of the water overflowing onto the tiled floor. He grabbed Ron by the back of his neck, fingers curling into the damp locks of hair, and pulled him in close. “I am going to kiss you now Weasley. You can get out of the tub now if you want and I won’t ever mention this again. I will continue to tutor you, and that will be all. If you choose to stay in here with me, I am going to do wicked things to you, things I am certain you will enjoy.” He tightened his grip in Ron’s hair, pleased at the high pitched noise the teen made. “Now, what will it be?”

Ron looked at him, face flushed, pupils blown wide. “Please, sir, show me?”


	7. Chapter 7

Ron’s mouth didn’t taste like chocolate, or pumpkin juice, if it had Snape wasn’t sure he could have kept going. Instead Ron tasted like cinnamon and mint, like the gum he chewed in class when he thought the professor wasn’t looking. Snape moved the hand not tangled in Ron’s hair and pulled him forward, nails digging into the warm, freckled, skin. Ron moaned and Snape swallowed the noises eagerly. 

Ron slid forward, awkwardly trying to pull himself into Snape’s lap. So much water had overflowed the tub was half empty, and he shivered at the feeling of slick skin on skin. They were both still wearing their underwear, but it was easy to feel the hardness and heat through the thin, damp cloth. 

Severus pulled back a bit and took an opportunity to enjoy the sight in front of him. Ron was soaking wet, soap foam still clinging to kiss skin, naked aside from his wet boxers. His face was flushed and his lips looked swollen. And his eyes were hungry. It was a beautiful sight, one Severus intended to enjoy. He moved his hands over Ron’s chest, and toyed with his nipples, pinching and rubbing in turns, enjoying the way Ron writhed and panted in his lap. He continued for a few moments and then switched his attention to another part of his anatomy. Ron’s cock was hard and clearly defined in the wetness of his boxers, straining at the wet fabric. He ghosted a hand over it and watched as Ron arched up in a desperate attempt to get more contact. 

“Do you like that Weasley?” he asked, letting just the tips of his fingers touch him through his underwear. “Hmm?”

Ron nodded hurriedly. “Yes sir, I like that.” His voice was thick and breathy.

Snape grinned, realizing what fun he could have with the leftover effects of the bloodcap sap. “What else would you like Weasley?” He rubbed a bit harder at Ron’s cock, his other hand moving back to pinch a hardening nipple.

Ron rocked back and forth in his lap. “Please, please…,” he chanted, bucking his hips up in vain as Severus moved his hand away.

“Please what?” Snape pinched the already abused nipple, hard, and watched as Ron keened and shuddered. “If you don’t tell me, how can I make you feel good?”

“I just, I can’t, I don’t know…” Ron babbled incoherently, eyes fever bright. And then he stiffened and looked Severus right in the eye. “Make me,” he said, voice high and hoarse. 

“Make you?” Snape repeated, unsure of what the boy meant. It almost sounded as if…

“Make me!” Ron repeated, grabbing Snape’s hands and clasping them to his chest. “I can’t think, I can’t focus, but I want it, I want so much. And I want you to make me.” He whimpered pathetically and bucked his hips again, rutting against Severus’s erection. “Please sir.” His voice was wrecked and raw.

Severus didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Ron by the hips, digging his finger sin hard enough to bruise, and pulled him flush against him, hard, grinding his cock up against the teen’s ass. It was wonderful, hearing those sounds, it was everything he had ever denied himself, everything he deserved after years of service. 

He lifted a hand to Ron’s neck and wrapped his long fingers around his throat, squeezing lightly. Ron tilted his head back to give more access, back arching up against him. He wrapped his arms around Snape’s shoulders and shifted his weight back to expose himself more.

“Okay, Ron,” Severus relished the feeling of the word in his mouth. He didn’t like calling students by their given names, but this felt good, like a stolen treat. “I am going to make you do what I want. I am going to do things to you that will feel amazing,” he paused and pressed his achingly hard cock up against Ron again for emphasis. “I am going to do things that will hurt, in the best ways.” His fingernails scraped over a vein on Ron’s throat, just hard enough for him to feel the edge. “Now, you, you have one job to do. It’s simple enough even for you. You need to say the word ‘red’ if you want me stop, alright?”

Ron frowned and moved in to Nuzzle at Snape’s neck. “Not gonna,” he whined. “Don’t want you to stop.”

Severus pried the boy off, somewhat reluctantly. “Do you understand?” he asked, using his Teaching Voice to try and cut through a bit of the haze in Weasley’s mind.

Ron rolled his eyes but nodded. “Yes, I’ll say it, just get on with it will you?”

Snape smiled and then muttered a wandless spell under his breath. Before Ron could ask what was going on, he was standing up, Ron still wrapped around his waist. With the weightlessness charm he was able to step out of the tub and carry Ron out of the bathroom and into his bedroom. He dropped the teen on the bed, headless of the way he was dripping all over the the black satin bedspread. 

Ron looked good like that, dripping wet and laying on his bed. His boxers, dark red cotton, were almost black from the water, and they clung to him like a second skin. He wasn’t overly muscular, there was an almost delicate thinness to his limbs, which were long and pale and just as heavily freckled as the rest of him. He didn’t have any hair on his chest yet, but a thin line of dark red hair lead down from his navel and disappeared into his boxers. He looked good enough to eat.

So Severus made a decision to do just that. He fell to his knees and grabbed Ron by the legs ad dragged him to the edge of the bed. He started at the instep. A small kiss, chaste almost. Then the delicate bones of his ankle. Then a long lick up to the inside of his knee. Ron was breathing heavily, toes curling at each new sensation. He tasted clean and fresh with an aftertaste of lemon form the soap. Next, Severus grabbed a hold of Ron’s damp boxers and slid them off, watching with wide eyes as his cock was released and slapped up against his flat stomach, the tip pink and leaking. 

Severus slid up the bed and settled between Ron’s legs, breath ghosting over his cock and balls. He didn’t move for that though, instead he turned his attention the milk pale skin on the inside of his things. It was a perfect, soft stretch of skin, and when he sank in his teeth, Ron hissed through his teeth and squirmed. Severus placed his hands on the boy’s hips and pressed him down, keeping him in place as he moved, bites trailing up and around the place Ron wanted his mouth most. He moved up, higher and higher, leaving perfect imprints of his teeth. Hip, ribs, an almost perfect circle of teeth marks around one pink nipple. He bit down on the junction between Ron’s neck and shoulder, just hard enough to taste the coppery tang of blood.

Ron cursed, moving his hands to bury them in Snape’s hair. “Please, please, please” he chanted, rocking his hips up in a desperate bid for friction. “Please, touch me.” Snape’s body was hovering over his, just high enough that he couldn’t rut against his thigh or hip.

“Touch you/” Snape whispered, settling his weight down on top of Ron. “But I am touching you, aren’t I?” He slid a hand between their bodies and wrapped it loosely around his cock. “I’m touching you just how I want to right now.” he gave him a few slow, loose fisted pumps.

Ron squirmed, pushing his hips up and down, desperately fucking into Severus’s fist. It was good, it was so god. Just being touched by a hand not his own was almost enough to send him over the edge. Almost, but not quote. “Please, please make me come, I need it so bad, please, please.” he buried his face against Snape’s neck and moved a hand down to cup his cock thorugh his trunks. Snape was big, and hard, and hot, and he groaned in a rather nice way when Ron gave him an experimental squeeze. “I’ll be so good,” he panted, kissing the side of Snape’s face. “I’ll be so good for you, so just…Please.”

And then snape was moving, faster than Ron’s muddled mind could follow. He was sliding down and swallowing Ron’s cock in a move that must have been practiced. He curled his tongue against the underside of Ron’s shaft, sliding his foreskin down with his tongue, and sucked. Hard, his cheeks hollowing. He pulled his underwear down with one hand, furiously pumping his cock. And then he moved his left hand and slid it under Ron’s ass, and pressed a single finger against his hole, and Ron was cumming. His back was arching and he was panting so hard it sounded like me might hyperventilate as he emptied himself into Severus’s mouth and Snape was close behind, emptying into his fist. And his finger was pressing, just a bit harder and then…

“Ah! Fuck! Re-red!” Ron let out a massive breathe as Snape let go of his cock, and his hands moved. 

Snape moved to sit up on the bed beside Ron, close but not touching. “Are you alright?” he leaned over so he could look at Ron’s face. The redhead was sweaty and red faced, and he was pointedly staring at the wall instead of meeting Snape’s gaze.

“Yeah sorry, I just, it was good but…” Ron took a deep, shuddering breath. “It was a lot. And I’ve never, not even myself, you know? Not there at least…” He snapped his jaw shut to stop his babbling. “Sorry.”

Snape shrugged. “I told you to say red when you wanted me to stop, you did, and I stopped. You did nothing wrong.” He stretched his arms over his head and moved off the bed, still clad in nothing but his wet underwear. “Now, I think we did a good job of removing the bloodcap sap. I am already feeling much less of the magical effects, I assume you are feeling better as well.”

Ron nodded, face somehow going an even brighter red. “Yeah, I feel better.” he scrambled to sit up and pulled the blankets up so he could cover himself a bit.

“Well in that case I think it is time for you to return to your dorm, Mr. Weasley.” Snape summoned his wand and then fetched Ron’s clothes, cleaning them of the worst of the mess with a quick cleansing charm. “I would advise you leave a note with these for the house elves, otherwise there will be a stain.” He carefully placed the clothes on the bed next to Ron. “If, on the way back to your room you encounter another Professor, or Filch, you may tell them to speak to me, you won’t get in trouble for being out after curfew this time.”

Ron nodded mutely and hurried to pull on his clothes. They felt strange on his hot, oversensitive skin, but he was suddenly in a hurry to cover himself up. He watched Snape slide on a black cotton bathrobe as he pulled on his boots, and when he stood up to leave, Snape was already busying himself with the bags of mushrooms in his coat pocket.

“Uhm, Professor/” Ron cursed himself internally for the way his voice wavered. “About the extra classes?”

Snape raised a single eyebrow and then nodded, turning away. “You will receive more than full marks for your work tonight. If you desire more extra lessons you may see me wednesday evening at eight in my office.”

Ron waited a moment but that seemed to be all Snape was going to say. So he turned quickly and practically ran out of the room and into the halls. Snape waited to hear the door close and then let himself fall back against the bed, breathing in the scent of soap and sex and sweat. He closed his eyes and cursed. Loudly.


	8. Chapter 8

The Gryffindor dorm was quiet when Ron made it to the top of the stairs. He had taken his boots off in the common room and he crept across the floor in his socks, trying to be as quiet as possible. Outside the sun wasn’t out yet but the sky had already begun to lighten at the edges. He had spent almost an hour in an empty first floor bathroom, crying in a stall for reasons he couldn’t define. Now his nose was running and his eyes were red and hurt. His throat felt like he had been eating sandpaper, and he wasn’t sure if he had any tears left to be crying. 

He blamed the lingering effects of the bloodcap sap, maybe it made it harder for him to lie even to himself. He hadn’t expected a declaration of love from Snape, that wasn’t it. But as soon as he had been sent away, and that was how it felt, like he had been dismissed after providing a service, after that he had felt empty and raw inside. And now he just wanted to sleep, maybe forever. 

“Ron? Ron issat you?” Ron could just make out the figure of Harry in the dark, sitting up in bed behind the curtains of his bed. 

“Ye-yeah,” Ron croaked, clearing his throat. “It’s me mate.”

“Did you just get in?” Harry pulled the curtain on his bed back and grabbed for his glasses. “Have you been gone all night?”

Ron sighed. So much for sleep. “Yeah, Snape’s extra lessons ran a bit...long.” He sat down on the edge of his bed and pulled off his socks before starting on his jumper. “Bit tired actually,” he added hopefully.

“Of course you bloody are!” Harry crept across the room and crawled up onto Ron’s bed. “You were gone all night! What in the world-” He stopped speaking and leaned in close. “What in the world happened to you? Are you alright Ron?”

Ron hastily mopped his face with his sweater. “Yeah, I’m fine. Nothing wrong.” he forced a weak smile.

Harry looked at him, nonplussed. “Ron, you are a terrible liar.” He pulled the curtains shut around them and cast a silencing charm as he lit up his wand, leaving them in a cozy cocoon of light. “Now tell me what happened because i can see something did and it looks like it was worse than spiders of any size.”

Ron sighed and sat back, grabbing a pillow and hugging it close. “Well, there were some spiders,” he said, a small smile on his face. “But really, I’m fine.” He wanted to tell Harry. He did. Harry was his best friend, the person he trusted most, but he couldn’t tell him. 

Harry stared at him, clearly not believing that was all. “Are- are you sure Ron? You just seem…” his voice trailed off and he waved a hand at Ron, taking in his general appearance. 

“Tired,” Ron said, smiling wanly. “I seem tired.” He fell back against the pillows and yawned. “Now, if you don’t mind I would like a bit of shut eye before Transfiguration in the morning. Last time I fell asleep in class McGonagall turned my chair into a cactus. Took ages to get the spikes out.”

Harry hesitated for a moment and then sighed and scooted off the bed. As soon as he was gone Ron buried himself under the blankets and closed his eyes. It didn’t take long to fall asleep, and within a few minutes he was unconscious.

Snape meanwhile, found sleep escaped him. He laid in his bed, his damp bed that smelled like soap and sex and Weasley’s sweat. That wasn’t very conducive to sleep though, so he moved to the couch in the living room. Out there it was better, the air was clear and he was able to think.

Unfortunately all he could think about was his bed. Or rather how Ron had looked in his bed. Sweaty and flushed and begging. That line of thought also wasn’t conducive to sleep, and it was at that point he gave up on the idea entirely and moved to his lab so he could begin prepping and storing the blood cap mushrooms. 

He emptied the bag of mushrooms on his work table and immediately pulled on a pair of gloves before starting his work. It was soothing, working with his hands. He barely had to think as he worked, his hands seemed to move on their own, separating the caps from the stems. As he worked his breathing evened, he was calmer, and it was easier to think about what had happened without his body taking over for his brain.

He had had sex with a student. And not just any student, he had sex with Ronald Weasley, one of the golden trio, a boy whose father was not much older than himself. He had broken muggle law, wizarding law, the rules of Hogwarts, and his own moral code. Yet somehow all he could find to feel guilt over was the look on Ron Weasley’s face when he left his rooms. 

The boy had said ‘Red”, and he had stopped. He had given him space, and made sure he was alright. He had done the right thing, let the boy set boundaries. That was what he was supposed to do. What wasn’t supposed to happen was the boy practically running from his quarters on the verge of tears. He was just about certain of that. True, his own education on the matter had been a bit piecemeal, a combination of overhearing his housemates in the Slytherin dorms, and a few quick trysts with Lucius Malfoy and Regulus Black. There had also been rough sex amongst Voldemort's followers, but it really only served as a strict guide on what not to do, along with a minor class on gross human anatomy. There had been tears then, but not like Ron’s.

He shook his head to clear away those thoughts. There was no sense dwelling on the ravings of a madman or the corrupt deeds of his followers. He had a more current and pressing problem to deal with. Weasley. What would he do, would he tell his head of house, or Dumbledore even? Certainly he would have told his little friends. 

He should have been panicking. His career could be over, worse his protection from Dumbledore wouldn't last if he was accused of harming a student. The ministry would be after him, and so would Voldemort. He should have been thinking about running but instead he was cleaning mushrooms, setting the caps to dry and slicing up the stems for preserving. 

He worked until the mushrooms were all set and stored. Then he thoroughly cleaned his work space and burned the sap soaked gloves he had been using, careful not get any on his skin when he took them off. He cleaned himself up, in the stall shower this time, not the bath, and got dressed in his usual billowing robes. No one had come for him. McGonagall wasn’t beating his door down in a rage and Dumbledore wasn’t sitting on his couch with a fake smile. 

So he went to breakfast. The Great Hall was the usual bustle of activity, the chatter of the students a calming background noise. The other professors were seated at the head table, and professor Flitwick nodded at him absently over his usual morning oatmeal. Everything was normal. 

Snape sat down, filled his cup with tea, and tried to look at the Gryffindor table without being too obvious. The tro were at their normal spots at the table. Granger had her head buried in a book, and Potter was talking to some of the other boys about something in a very animated fashion, waving a quidditch magazine as he spoke. Ron, Weasley was leaning his face on his arm and listlessly picking at a plate of hashbrowns and eggs. For a second he looked up and blue eyes met brown. Snape looked away first.

By third period potions Snape had taken away twenty points from Hufflepuff, thirty from Gryffindor, and even took off fifteen points from his own students. He was on edge, but one advantage of always been tough on his students was that it was unlikely anyone would even notice the change in his behavior. 

Then Weasley came in. The boy looked much the same as usual, save for the slight dark circles under his eyes. He sat in the back of the room near Potter and Granger, as he always did, and silently unpacked his cauldron and supplies. He kept his head down, trained on his work station the whole time. Once, he dropped his quill and Potter rushed to pick it up off of the floor, patting Ron on the arm as he handed it back and whispering something that made the redhead smile. 

Snape saw red. “Potter!” he snapped, turning to the chalkboard at the front of the room. “Can you tell me the ingredients needed to create a Skele-Gro potion?”

Harry hesitated a moment and then shrugged. “I know it contains a number of plants high in calcium, and I think it has pisky bone powder?”

Snape clucked his tongue. “How disappointing. It contains pisky bone marrow, dried will work for most potions but fresh is often better.” He sneered and swirled around to begin writing the recipe on the board. “For someone who has had need of it before you are sadly lacking in practical knowledge.” 

Harry flushed and nodded, pulling out a quill and parchment to begin copying the ingredient list. Snape was almost disappointed he didn’t say anything, he was rather looking forward to yelling at the boy today. Touching Weasley so blatantly in front of him, how dare he?

Snape took pleasure in hounding Potter through the lesson, hanging over his cauldron and scribbling notes as harry panicked and made more and more mistakes. It was good, the familiar feeling of it all. Ron for his part spent the lesson with his head down, his nose almost touching his parchment as he painstakingly followed the instructions. 

By the end of class Granger had a perfect milk white potion that smelled something like cut grass and mint, and Potter had a lumpy grey mess that smelled like burnt oatmeal and smoked ominously. Weasley for his part, produced a very serviceable potion, the color a perfect creamy white, the viscosity just a hair thin, but otherwise very good. He waited in the back of the class as the students brought up their bottled and labeled potions, making a mark on his parchment at each one. 

Weasley waved his friends ahead and took his time cleaning up his work station. By the time he was done the other students had all left and they were alone in the room. Snape stayed by his desk, unsure of what to do or say. The urge to peek into Weasley’s brain for just a moment was almost too much, but he knew he had already violated the boy enough. So he busied himself with grading, focusing his attention on the first year quizzes. 

“Professor?” 

Snape almost jumped at the sound of Ron’s voice. “Yes?” He fought to keep his own tone even.

“I’ll see you at eight for my extra lesson.” Ron looked Snape straight in the eye and then nodded, turning on his heel and marching out of the classroom before the Potion’s Master could respond.


	9. Chapter 9

At seven forty five Snape was pacing circles in his office. He had been doing so for the last quarter of an hour and at this point was a bit worried he was wearing a groove in a floor. Every little sound in the castle had him jumping towards the door. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been so on edge. It made no sense. He knew he had made a mistake with Weasley, with Ron. He had crossed a line, magical interference or no, he had no excuse. He should have done something, should have brought them to the hospital wing, hell with the risks of the bloodcap sap. 

But the thing that was really bothering his was Weasley’s reaction to the whole thing. Weasley had, apparently, enjoyed everything they had done. Which made no sense. Weasley wasn’t attracted to him, he knew that. Weasley was involved with that frizzy haired granger girl, he had seem them together often enough to know. And if the boy wasn’t interested in her, in the off chance that he was more interested in men, then he had Potter. Perfect Potter with the big green eyes, star of the quidditch team. He had no reason to be falling into bed with Severus Snape.

His own attraction to the boy was also something best not dwelt on for long. He made it a point not to look at students in that sort of way. Normally it wasn’t even hard. They were all so happy and cheerful, nothing like he had been at that age. It made them seem even younger than they were, and he was no pederast. At least, he hadn’t been until he fell into bed with the youngest Weasley boy. It was bad enough he had slept with a student, but for it to be Weasley, that was a bridge too far. He had taught ever Weasley child at some point. Most of them drove him to madness, not fits of lust. Hell, he worked with Arthur Weasley doing missions for the Order fairly often. He would never be able to look the man in the eye again. And Molly. 

He shuddered. Molly Weasley was a lovely woman most of the time, cheerful and helpful and very...motherly, in a way his own mother had never been. Molly Weasley was nice to everyone, she had been made a concerted effort to be nice to him. And now, she was going to kill him. To hell with Dumbledore or Voldemort or the Death Eaters, the life of Severus Snape would meet an end at the hands of angry redhead mother of seven. She probably wouldn’t even use her wand, she would strange him with her bare hands. 

Snape was drawn away from that morbid thought by a knock on his door. “Come in.”

Ron opened the door and stepped in quickly, shutting the door behind him. “Sorry if I’m late.”

Snape glanced up at the clock on the wall. Weasley was, in fact, three minutes early. “You’re fine.” He glanced at his desk. He had put together a stack of first and second year quizzes. Grading them would be a good refresher for Ron, and would give him something he could do quietly, and on his own, maybe with Snape in a different room entirely.

“I’m not gonna tell,” Ron said suddenly. “I mean, I don’t plan on letting any of the other professors know, or anything. I won’t tell anyone.” His face flushed bright red. “I know- I know you regret it. It was just the mushrooms, right?”

Snape took a deep breath and nodded hesitantly. Of course the boy would want an out, and that was just fine. Better, if he was also willing to keep the events of the evening between themselves. “Of course.”

Ron heaved a sigh of relief and attempted a smile. “So, got any work for me Professor?” he looked around the room questioningly.

“Quizzes.” Snape grabbed the stack of parchment off his desk and handed them over to Ron without even looking up at him. “The grading rubric is on the topmost sheet, there is red ink in the cabinet. Once you finish you may leave.”

Ron took the papers, carefully not touching Snape’s fingers with his own. “Alright, will do.” He set the stack on a lab table and accioed the red ink bottle and a quill. He sat down without another word and began sorting out the papers into stacks.

Snape watched him for a moment and then took a seat at his own desk. He had plenty to do, labs to write up, papers to grade, if he had time there were also the notes he was taking for his own research work. He still hadn’t published his findings on his version of the wolfsbane potion, in part because he wasn’t sure if anyone would ever bother with anything with his name on it. Most of the wizarding world still saw him as a Death eater first and everything else a distant second.

Snape managed to lose himself in his work for the better part of an hour. It was the sound of Weasley shuffling around that drew him back into the real world. When he looked up to see what it was the boy was doing, his eyes went wide. Ron had shed his black robe and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, exposing tanned, freckle dusted forearms. That would have been enough to distract Snape, who couldn’t help but remember exactly where else the young man had freckles, but the redhead had gone even further. He was licking himself. He was marking notes in the corner of each piece of parchment, and then licking his thumb before turning the page. Severus stared at Ron’s tongue, watching it dart in and out of his mouth. The boy was clearly taunting him, making him think about all the other things that tongue could be picking instead of his fingers.

“Sir?”

Snape blinked rapidly as Ron’s voice snapped him out of his reverie. “What?” he croaked, throat suddenly very dry. He cleared his throat. “What is it?” he repeated.

Ron stared at him, hard, head tilted to the side. “You were staring sir. I thought perhaps something was wrong.” he raised an eyebrow, face carefully blank.

“Ah yes, nothing, it was nothing.” Snape fought back a blush. He hadn’t blushed since second year, he wasn't about to start the habit up again at this age. “I was just thinking about work.”

Ron nodded slowly. “Alright, well if you have a moment can you look at this paper? One of the Ravenclaw’s got clever and wrote and extra three paragraphs on poison antidotes and we haven’t most of these even in the upper level classes.” He held up a long roll of parchment, the page filled with very, very, tiny writing. 

Snape sighed and stood up from his desk. “I imagine that would be Avery, he’s very….Ravenclaw-ish. I might have to start deducting points for every inch over the assigned limit he writes, but I’m worried he’ll just find a way to write smaller.”

Ron bit back a laugh and held up the offending paper as Snape slid around behind him, leaning forward to look over his shoulder. He could feel the heat of the other man’s body through his clothes, and he could smell him when he breathed in. Snape smelled like cloves and mint and smoke and something else that was manly and very...Snape. It was pleasant, which Ron hadn’t been ready for. Very nice. He found himself leaning back a bit, pressing a bit against the other man’s chest as he held up the paper.

He could feel Snape’s sharp intake of breath as they brushed together. It gave him a little thrill, knowing he did that, that this time it was just him and Snape and no magic mushroom goop to make a mess of things. And this time, he had a plan. Not a very complicated plan, but a plan nonetheless.

“See here, Professor? He brings up bezoars, and I know enough about those, but then he goes on to discuss the properties of other stones found in animals, and some of the more exotic ones had me a bit lost.” Ron leaned back in his chair and took Snape’s hand, directing his attention to the passage in question. 

Snape’s breath caught in his throat. “I see. Well lesser known animal parts and their uses are usually only a part of the course work for very advanced classes. That is because the ingredients are rare and often very volatile. No sense wasting them on the younger students.” His voice caught a bit when Ron’s thumb brushed across his hand as he pulled the paper back. 

“I see, well I’ll set this one aside for you to grade later then.” Ron turned a bit and smiled up at Snape, hoping he looked flirtatious instead of awkward. 

“I’ll be sure to look at later.” Snape hurried away and went back to his desk. Weasley was acting...strangely. He was sure of it. The casual touching, the simpering edge to his voice, that coy smile. He just couldn’t figure out why, normally the boy was borderline hostile with him, at least when not under the influence of magic mushrooms.

And then it came to him, the boy was teasing him, mocking him for what had happened. Maybe even trying to hint that he knew Snape was attracted to him, and was going to use that to his advantage. It wasn’t the first time a student had tried it with him, though normally it was an over eager Ravenclaw or the odd Slytherin thinking seducing the Head of House was a good power move. Draco had casually offered him a blow job once, Snape had ended that line of thought very quickly by threatening to tell Lucius about it. Well, if Weasley was going to play that game, Severus wasn’t against playing a long a bit.

Severus went back to his work, glancing up now and then to see what the boy was up to. Mostly, he seemed to be doing the work Snape had given him, head bent over the pile of parchment, quill scratching across the paper softly. All of his concentration seemed to be on the quizzes. The hand not holding the quill was toying with a strand of hair. Weasley had come back from the Summer break with hair as long as the twins. It looked soft, and the bright red of it was distracting in the grey of the dungeon.

A few minutes later and Ron got up from the table and walked over to Snape’s desk, papers in hand. “Here you are sir. I graded them all based on the rubric and left notes about where points were taken off.” He handed the stack of tests over.

“Let me see.” Snape grabbed the tests and flipped through them scanning them quickly. They appeared correct. Weasley had even noted spelling mistakes here and then, which was a nice touch. Normally he would just summon a dictionary and drop it in front of whatever student had the worst spelling. They normally got the point after that. “Decent work Weasley. I am almost impressed.”

Ron smiled at that. “Well, I guess I’ll be going then, goodnight professor.” He turned and started towards the table to collect his things. When he bent over to collect his bag his pants were tight over his ass.

Snape watched him for a moment and then looked back down at the papers. There it was, what he had been looking for. A mistake.

“Wait.”

Weasley froze, still bent over and shoving his robes into his bag. “Sir?” he asked, straightening.

“You seem to have made a mistake Weasley.” Snape lifted up the offending paper. Ron had marked a student as correct ona question about cauldron metals, mixing up perlite and ferrite. True enough they were obscure, but different types of steel could behave differently when heated magically. “I’m disappointed, I thought that this was a task you were capable of completing.” he sighed dramatically and tapped the papers with his wand, sending them back to the table Ron had been working at. “Please check them again, thoroughly this time. I know you’re in a rush to leave but I will not accept sloppy work.”

Ron blushed and grabbed the paper, thumping back down into his seat and flipping through the pages. It took him another twenty minutes to check over the papers again, and Snape was pleased to see him making a few minor changes. He didn’t really think the boy was trying to rush, but it was enjoyable getting under his skin.

“Here. I checked them over twice. They’re perfect.” Ron practically shoved the papers into Snape’s chest, face defiant. 

“Thank you.” Snape took the tests and slid them into the topmost drawer in his desk. 

Ron stared at him. “Aren’t you going to check them over again?” he demanded, brow furrowing. 

Snape raised an eyebrow. “Do I need to?” he asked coolly. “I thought you said they were perfect.”

Ron’s eyes went wide and he bit his lip to keep his anger in check. “Fine. Well if that’s all…” he started to turn again.

“Take out the glassware form under the far cabinet before you go,” Snape commanded, not looking up again from his work. “By hand, it’s too delicate for the way you cast accio.”

Ron took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes sir.” He walked to the back of the room and dropped to his knees in front of the row of cabinets. The glassware used for experiments was stores inside, in wooden boxes filled with straw. He carefully opened each box, and then took out the glass pieces inside and put them on the table behind him. At one point he turned to see Snape was leaning forward at his desk, eyes trained on his ass. When Snape noticed that Ron had caught him staring he just maintained eye contact, one brow quirking up slightly. 

Ron blushed and turned back to what he was doing, quickly unpacking and setting out the glasses. As soon as he was done he hurried to his feet, trying to resist the urge to cover his backside with his hands. “Is that all sir/” he mumbled, head down.

Snape leered at him. “Yes, that’s all for today. But I’m sure I can think of something to do with you tomorrow.”

Ron nodded and grabbed his bag hurrying out of the room. Snape watched him go and allowed himself a little grin. At least he had something fun to look forward to the next day.


End file.
